


The Meaning of Intimacy

by continuum



Series: Val Jean Sidestories [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Anatomy, F/M, Gentle Sex, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 01:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/continuum/pseuds/continuum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tuvok is an incredible lover, and an even more incredible friend.</p><p>This takes place in the Val Jean universe, late first season.  It is not canonical for that story, though nothing in that story will contradict it.  Consider it optional-canon.  Universe background: After <em>Voyager</em> was destroyed fighting the Kazon at the Caretaker Array, Janeway, Tuvok, Paris and Kim are integrating into the Maquis ship <em>Val Jean</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meaning of Intimacy

She tried to be calm and presentable in the morning. Tuvok, of course, noticed that something was off as soon as she swung down from the upper bunk. “Kathryn. Are you unwell?”

“I had a bit too much to drink last night. Actually…” Tuvok was one person she could talk to about anything. “Alcohol. Social lubricant, disinhibitor. It made me think about some things I haven’t though about in a long time.”

Tuvok frowned. “This ship’s protocols concerning Mr. Chell’s distillation are… nonexistent. The lack of synthehol is unfortunate.”

“I agree.”

“Are you still feeling any symptoms?”

She hesitated. “I don’t think so.”

“What is it?”

“I think it would make you uncomfortable.”

He softened. “Kathryn. I am your friend. You will not make me uncomfortable.”

She still hesitated. “I don’t think it’s a residual symptom. I think it’s just natural… discomfort. From lack of release. Sexual release.”

“Ah. Do you wish some privacy in these quarters?”

She sighed, unable to bottle her frustration. “No, that won’t help. It… doesn’t work for me without assistance.”

It was Tuvok’s turn to hesitate. Despite his assurances, Kathryn knew that Vulcans were uncomfortable with the human notion of sex. It was too close to losing control. “Do you… wish assistance?”

Oh, butterflies tickled her lower abdomen at that. It might work, it sometimes did even without electronics, with another person to help. Strong Tuvok, so close, holding her, rocking her gently, sweetly towards release… she swallowed. “Tuvok. You’re my friend. I know Vulcans don’t have the same… chemistry. I would not ask that of you.”

“I do not have the same chemistry, but… as your friend, I would offer you assistance, if you wish it. Both of us know that we each have intimate ties with another. I understand that sometimes humans… negotiate the bounds of their friendships.”

The emotion that flooded her had nothing to do with her arousal, and everything to do with how much this meant, coming from him. He cared about her, he just wanted to protect her and be there for her, no matter what. What had she done to deserve him?

“Oh Tuvok.” She embraced him, a friend’s embrace as he had always given her when she needed solidity and closeness. She drank in the warmth of him, and without stepping away raised her face to his. She traced the outline of his jaw with one finger.

“Instruct me,” he said quietly.

“Kiss me?”

Tenderly, gingerly, he lowered his mouth to hers. His eyes were open, watching hers drift closed. The kiss was sweet, almost chaste. Kathryn savored it, the care it represented. Part of her still couldn’t believe this was happening. Part of her panted hungrily for more, fast, hard. But she didn’t want to do too much, didn’t want to take too much.

“Like that?” he asked, his mouth still centimeters away. Did he have any idea how much of an effect he was having?

“Yes,” she breathed huskily. “And like this.” She raised herself on tiptoe, her body brushing against his, to reach his mouth again. She leaned into him. Her breasts ached, her heart pounded. Surely he could hear that. Her arms wrapped around his solid chest as she pressed her mouth gently, but insistently, and parted her lips. His arms encircled her tightly, mirroring, learning from her. Their tongues explored each other’s lips. She came down off her toes, swaying against him, breathless. “Can we lie down?”

“Yes.” They moved to the bed. “Do you wish me to remove your pants?”

“Oh, yes. Very much.” They lay side by side on his bunk while he delicately unhooked her pants. She looked at him steadily. “Tuvok, I really appreciate this.” The movement of his hand there, so close, made her hips twitch unconsciously. “Oh.”

“I will admit,” he said softly by her ear, “to some curiosity about these intimate human rituals.”

Somehow, even knowing he didn’t feel anything like the physical sensations running through her, the thought of him watching, impassively interested, thoroughly analytical, was making her even slicker. And then his thumbs were hooked in her pants, sliding them down her hips. She arched her back to let him pull them down to her middle-thigh. He’d caught her underwear with them, which separated wetly from between her legs. She didn’t usually get this wet. But gosh, it had been a long time. And between last night and this, this slow torture…

She realized her eyes had gone distant and, panting slightly, she checked back with her friend. His calm brown eyes were watching her face, her every reaction. His hand still rested softly on her inner thigh. He was going to make her narrate every move. And that was somehow so hot to her.

“Touching me, gently, firmly, with one or two fingers,” she murmured, as his fingers echoed the movement on her thigh. “Especially stroking evenly from the opening up to circling the clitoris, plenty of lubrication, might work. It… it might take a while.”

He gave a small nod. “Adjust my movements as necessary.” And his fingers moved inwards, parting, exploring, spreading the wetness as they went. He found what he was looking for, her dip and opening, and scooped gently upward, bringing the lubrication up to circle her clitoris. Kathryn’s breath was sharp. Her eyes closed in concentration. He repeated the motion, making a slow rhythm out of it. Her hips twitched.

“You can go… higher… on each stroke,” she gasped. He adjusted, causing her hips to arch the other way as well. “A little firmer…”

It was smooth, wet, fantastic. Eyes closed, Kathryn drifted away on a plain of maddening arousal. But it wasn’t quite enough. Frustration returned. “Try something different? Lighter, faster?” He seemed to catch on, being sure to flick her clit on the upswing, then adjusting to focus more of his attention there. But it wasn’t the fast light touch of a vibe. She opened her eyes. “I’m sorry. Go back to the first one?”

He readjusted. “No apologies. Time is of no concern.” She noticed that he’d taken the initiative to press a little harder now that she was stimulated. She arched appreciatively. She was building up again, his fingers rubbing up and down becoming the rhythm of her thoughts, the rhythm of her breaths. But her wetness was also spent.

“Getting dry,” she said. “It’s normal, I just can’t—” he withdrew his fingers for the briefest moment, putting them in his mouth to fetch a scoop of saliva. When they returned, the slick sensation roared through her mind. “Ohhh— so much better…” Her head rolled to the side, mouth questing. Tuvok bent over her, and she parted his thick lips with her tongue. He pressed down in response. Slippery, mirroring what was happening with his fingers. Slippery, carrying her away… almost away…

She whimpered into his mouth. “I’m so close, I just… can’t…” He, saint as he was, didn’t change a thing, keeping her there, right on the edge. She opened her eyes to see him propped on his elbow, watching her tenderly. “I don’t know, I don’t know…” she helplessly answered his unasked question.

His other hand brushed some damp hair from her forehead. “Perhaps if I… if I may, a small touch of your mind, to see what you are feeling?”

She nodded, her eyes locked onto his. What would it be like, for him? Would he feel this? Could he feel this? Did he want to? He brought his fingers to his mouth again, returning them freshly wet. Her eyes threatened to roll back at the new height she reached, her legs braced against the bed, shaking with need. But she forced her eyes to stay open. She wanted to look at him, when he touched her… His hand settled on her temple again. Not a mind-meld, nothing that far. Just a tiny spark of telepathic contact. The tip of him, of his mind, hesitating, reaching, then— his pupils suddenly dilated wide. Breath left him with a grunt. She could feel him, feel him inside her. His mind, her mind, entwined in the heights of her passion. With that contact, a point was passed, the familiar point of no return. She hung there, clinging desperately to him telepathically, for a long long moment. He curled his fingers, pumped her, feeling it exactly right. Her eyes weren’t open anymore. She was seeing nothing but black lights exploding as she tumbled far, far over the edge. Her body bucked and spasmed, and a warm weight held her and rode it through with her.

When her heart and breathing steadied, she felt both sets of fingers withdraw, and his mental presence eased out of her. She opened her eyes, limp and spent and in wonder. He held her in silence for a little while, until she broke it. “What… what did you feel?”

It took him a long time to gather his words. “I believe I felt everything that your mind felt, though I put up a precautionary barrier. It is… different from the pon farr.” It was telling, then, that they were beyond the taboo of it. That he wanted to share something of himself as well. “For us, it is entirely need, instinct. It often violent, and inseparable from complete union with another mind. In comparison, this seemed… solitary, but… tender. And it was… pleasure. Interesting.” He looked down at her. “Thank you.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Thank _you_. That was… amazing. It was just what I needed.” She was referring both to the push she’d gotten from finding the entry of his mind extraordinarily erotic, and also to the release as a whole.

They said nothing about doing it again. She still had her pants on to mid-thigh. He was still full clothed. They went, separately, to the showers and to continue on their day.


End file.
